Lost and found
by lighthouse11
Summary: The Avengers are mourning the loss of Peggy Carter, and Steve is understandably most upset, despite trying to play it down. Peggy was his last link to his old life - or was she? Bucky is as good as a ghost, but maybe one more prayer will turn the tide. One shot.


Steve hadn't asked them to come. He would have gone by himself. In fact, it had been what he'd planned to do when he'd first heard the news.

Natasha was the first to seek him out. "You know I'm coming with you to the funeral," she said, after she'd forced herself to wait almost an hour to give Steve some space once they got the news. Steve wished he could have been more composed, but if he was going to cry in front of anyone, he wasn't so worried if it was Natasha.

"Yeah," Steve sighed, "I guessed as much."

"And Clint will want to come too," Natasha said, leaning against Steve, "He's still upset he missed the downfall of SHIELD," she teased and forced a smile, giving Steve's hand a squeeze.

"It's just a funeral," Steve said quietly.

Sam was the next to speak to Steve about it. "You're not sending her off on your own," Sam said, as he and Steve ate pizza and watched the sport news.

"It's alright," Steve said, "Nat and Clint are coming. Don't feel obliged."

"Feel obliged? Dude, I'd be the worst counsellor ever if I let my mate go to his girlfriend's funeral alone. Nah man, you need your wingman at something like that. Trust me."

"It's just a funeral."

Steve had half hoped for privacy in the gym, but Thor arrived, ready as ever for a work out. Steve found himself glad to have a partner to work with. Thor and Steve were regular gym buddies, as they were the only two with similar brute force (though Steve knew he never wanted to go up against the God of Thunder outside of the gym).

"I am sorry to hear the news of the death of Peggy Carter," Thor said as they changed in the locker room.

"Thanks," Steve said.

"I should be honoured to attend her farewell. I know little of the Midgardian rituals surrounding death. I have spoken to Jane about it, and she informed me that a funeral such as that for Peggy Carter will be vastly different from those of Asgard."

"Right," said Steve, having no knowledge whatsoever of Asgardian burial rituals.

"I know what it is to lose the ones closest to your heart, Captain," Thor continued, "And I know that when farewelling them, it is best to have those who love you close by your side."

"Yeah," Steve said, pulling his hoodie over his head, "Thanks, but it's just a funeral."

The next morning whilst Steve was breakfasting after his run, Tony joined him in the kitchen. It was always hard to tell with Tony if he'd been up all night, or just hopped out of bed. "Now, regarding the funeral on Thursday," Tony said, making himself a vegetable juice, one more modern invention Steve just couldn't get his head around. Good old orange juice was all he needed. "It's in a church," Tony continued, "Churches make me uncomfortable. Too many old-fashioned rules. Sit down, stand up, sit down, kneel down, stand up, shake hands, sit down. Recite this, sing that, don't recite the next part."

"You're coming too?" Steve asked, the words slipping out before he realised it was a silly question.

"Of course I'm coming," Tony said, sipping his juice, "I've known Peggy my whole life. There's not many of my dad's friends left. Except you, of course."

"Yeah, huh, I guess so," Steve said.

"Do you need a suit? I can ask Pepper to arrange something for you."

"Umm, I think I'm right," Steve said.

"Bruce will be coming too. He'll want to pay his respects."

"Ok," Steve said, poking at his cereal, "But it's just a funeral."

Steve ended up in the elevator with Maria Hill. "I'm really sorry about Agent - Peggy," she said.

Steve looked at her. Maria looked sad. "You knew her?"

Maria nodded. "I met her on my very first day working at SHIELD. Can you imagine? Day one, and there's the famous Peggy Carter. She was amazing, and she was so nice. This little old lady who co-founded SHIELD, telling me that she was sure I was going to have an excellent career." Maria shook her head. "She kinda just seemed immortal."

Steve looked straight ahead at the door. Immortal. "So you're coming on Thursday?"

"Of course," Maria replied. "Everyone's going, Steve. I don't think you understand. This isn't just a funeral. This is Peggy Carter's funeral. She's a legend, Steve. This is a big deal."

"Yeah," Steve said, "I suppose it is."

...

The funeral was a big deal. Steve sat a few rows from the front of the church, along with Natasha, Clint, Sam, Thor and Jane, Tony and Pepper, Bruce, Maria, and Darcy and Ian. Darcy had declared that Peggy Carter had been an important woman in a world of too many men (plus there was guaranteed to be a tone of men in uniform) and Ian said that Peggy Carter needed more representation from those holding British passports, and would happily represent his country (despite the fact that it looked as though every British Consulate staff member from the American East Coast was in attendance, along with all of the associated British military attachés).

Standing in the church, looking at Peggy's coffin, Steve was thankful to be surrounded by his friends. Peggy had been the last of those he knew from his old life. Steve's eyes filled with hot tears as he thought of the Howling Commandos welcoming her into heaven, pints in their hands, singing songs, laughing an joking and patting Peggy on the back. Somehow, in his mind, 'heaven' was that pub in London they used to frequent, only the floor was made of clouds, and the ceiling was the endless starry night. Steve thought, but he couldn't remember its name. The one that was bombed in the air raid which had occurred at the same time Bucky had…

Something made the hairs on the back of Steve's neck bristle, and he turned around. The church was full right to the back row, with some late comers forced to stand along the back wall. Perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks.

"Amen," the congregation chorused, and sat down. Steve purposely sat down slowly, looking back over his shoulder and saw him.

"Steve?" Natasha whispered, nudging Steve in the ribs.

Steve turned back to the front. "Bucky," he whispered back.

...

After the church service was over, Peggy's family and a select number of government representatives were heading off to attend her burial. Everyone else disappeared in small groups back into the city. The Avengers cohort stood together around Steve.

"You all go on," Steve said, "We'll meet up later. I - there's someone here I need to see."

"You want me to come with you, man?" Sam asked.

Steve shook his head. He hadn't told anyone but Natasha about Bucky. "No, this one I have to do alone."

"Alright, man," Sam said and gave Steve's shoulder a squeeze, "We'll see you round."

Steve nodded and walked off as calmly as he could in the direction he had seen Bucky depart. But that had been a good five minutes ago, and by now Bucky could be on his way to anywhere. Steve wandered the streets for over an hour without luck, before his feet led him back to the church. Steve went back inside the empty church. Pink and yellow flowers still decorated the alter.

Steve sat down in the pew where he thought he had seen Bucky, three rows from the back. Or had it been three rows behind Bucky to the back? Steve slouched forward. He didn't feel like praying, but one more quiet prayer wouldn't hurt.

A booklet left behind sat on the pew in front of him. Steve reached forward and picked it up. Sure he had one in his pocket, but he didn't want to see any left behind. The picture on the front was recent, Peggy smiling broadly at the camera. She looked as though she'd been laughing at a joke and someone had said "hey, Gran, look at the camera for a sec!"

But it wasn't the smiling old lady that Steve knew. He turned the booklet over. On the back read the simple message of: _Peggy's family and friends_ _thank you for attending today's service and helping us to celebrate her remarkable life. _It was the picture on the back that Steve recognised. Peggy's service photo, Steve guessed circa 1943. Though it was in black and white, Steve could still see her brown hair, red lips, green jacket and tie, gold SSR badge. Steve ran his thumb over the image.

"I knew her," a voice muttered to Steve's left, "One time she denied me a dance."

Steve looked across the isle, his heart pounding inside his chest and fought to keep his composure. Bucky looked terrible. He looked tired and pale and in need of a good shower and a new coat. But he was here. He was definitely here. "Bucky," Steve choked.

Bucky stared at the ground, his fingers fiddling with the edges of his own booklet. "Did you," Bucky stopped and swallowed, pausing to collect his thoughts, "Did you ever end up asking her to dance?"

Steve laughed, his lip trembling, "Just before the plane went down, yeah. Bad timing, huh?" He wanted to cross the isle and wrap his arms around Bucky, and tell him that it was ok, that everything would be ok now, but he couldn't.

"I don't think we should have left Brooklyn, Steve."

"I don't know, Buck, some of it was alright,"

Bucky shook his head. "But I don't think it added up. The good and the bad. Not for me."

Steve felt sick. "Bucky…"

"I don't know if I can go back, Steve. I know what I've done. I know what they did to me. I don't know if I can go back."

"Of course you can, Buck," Steve said, the words coming out of his mouth before his mind had time to process them, "You're not in this alone."

Bucky's eyes flicked across to Steve for a moment, then back to the ground. "I'm so lost."

"It's alright, Buck," Steve said, "You just found the path back home."


End file.
